It always starts from far away. On foot, by bike, by bus. From the cradle, from childhood, from home. In this book, I start from the bottom, from the second-to-last page. There's a Polaroid, on the left "Berni", on the right Gino Bartali. At the Cycle Show, Milan, November 1993. They shake hands. "Berni" looks at Gino Bartali, Gino Bartali looks at the camera, but his eyes are closed. If it had been a mobile phone, more shots would have been taken, including one where Gino Bartali had his eyes open. But with the Polaroid, there was only one shot, this one, with closed eyes, amen. The Polaroid is enhanced and authenticated by the unmistakable autograph of the champion.

Enzo Bernasconi, "Berni", had already begun his adventurous life on two wheels. It was 1989 when, at 32 years old, during a company trip, he discovered not so much Puglia, but the bicycle. Since then, he hasn't stopped: Yugoslavia, Ireland, Finland, Tunisia, Austria, Corsica... new classics like Cesate-Paris and Cesate-Essaouira, the Vigevano-Mont Ventoux and Milan-Terranova da Sibari, rides like in New Zealand and Patagonia, trips on the Romantic Road or the Veneto ring, birthday celebrations like 50H for 50 years... Jordan? Yes, in 2008. Tanzania and Kilimanjaro? Of course, in 2023. And Iceland? Naturally, already in 2006.

Alone or in company, in cycling relay or with a group of artists, "Berni" goes. Without hurry, without schedules, without performance anxiety. Autonomous, self-sufficient, independent. Bike and camera, of course, and a notebook to jot down dates, encounters, kilometers, thoughts, poems, songs. From all this cycling back and forth, cycling upside down, cycling style, cycling activism, cycling determination, a big book was born, horizontal in the sense that it's wider than tall, heavy to hold but light to read, 256 pages and 350 photographs, plus maps and captions, a kaleidoscope where Che Guevara's bike (in Alta Gracia, Argentina) and the world's largest salt desert (Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia) swirl, the Avenida José Mourinho (in Portugal) and the statue on Col du Tourmalet (thin air of the Tour de France), Jovanotti's "Marco Polo" and the Michele Scarponi Foundation, the Pamir Highway (in Tajikistan) and a B&B in Montefiascone (Tuscia Viterbese), a wall where "we are unemployed but sporty" was written in white paint and the beautiful illustrations by Alberto Ipsilanti.

The beautiful thing is that the big book - bicycle-written, bicycle-photographed, and bicycle-produced - is not even for sale. To learn more, however, there are Facebook and Instagram pages and YouTube videos.

"Berni" doesn't show off, doesn't brag. He pedals. And to those who ask him (and many ask the same question) "but how do you manage to pedal for so many kilometers and so many days?", he immediately responds "one kilometer at a time, day by day".

Is it true that happiness, even bicycle happiness, always lies in the next journey?